Ischaemia
by Tsume Yuki
Summary: After splitting from Peter and Charlotte, Jasper finds himself in the company of a vampire with hair as red as her eyes. Female Harry Potter
1. 1 - 10

**Ischaemia**

.

 **One**

.

She's got especially vibrant red hair, Jasper thinks.

He's been pouring over books, looking for any kind of historical cases of vampires that have suffered like he has, his fingers clenched into tight fists in an effort to not pounce upon one of the humans in the mass below, when he spots her. Given the bright sunlight, she is especially hard to miss, she and her sparkling skin.

Everything in Jasper's body screams to stop her before she gives away the secret, before she brings the Volturi down on both their heads.

Only, no one is looking at her.

In fact, it is almost as if their eyes slide right over her form, none of the humans notice her at all.

Intrigued, Jasper abandons his books to follow her path through the crowd, watching the ringlets of curly scarlet bounce in the afternoon sun. Some kind of gift? The ability to go completely unnoticed when wishing to do so? At least, to human eyes? That is no doubt an incredibly useful power, far better than his own.

Reaching for his own gift, Jasper allows it to stretch, focusing it upon the other vampire, teeth scraping against the tough flesh of his lower lip.

A ferocious wave of loneliness fall over him, threatening to enclose over his head and drag him under. She is perhaps not as old as he, a few decades short of that.

But she feels far stronger than he does, a crushing loneliness that throbs like an open wound. Yet, even then, there is the smallest wisp of hope, lingering deep inside.

For what, Jasper does not know, only that it exists.

.

Eyes snap up to greet him, a red only slightly duller than his own.

.

 **Two**

.

Her name is Hariel Potter.

,

She came over to the library, but not until they had stared at each other for a few minutes. That action had certified it for him, that her gift allows her to pass unseen among the humans. For surely they would have noticed her frozen form otherwise, even if they had already seemed to miss the sparkles.

She had slipped into the building, offering the woman at the desk a pleasant smile before making her way to him, hands swiftly plaiting red curls back from her face, so that they will not fall in front of her eyes.

She smiles hesitantly, introducing herself with an English accent and holding out her hand to shake.

Jasper feels her surprise and embarrassed flattery when he instead kisses her knuckles in greeting, introducing himself.

She's a pretty thing, with all that bright hair framing that heart-shaped face, her small stature ensuring the crown of her head barely reached his chin. Perhaps to humans she would be of average height, maybe even slightly taller than average, but Jasper is a tall vampire; thus, she's rather on the petite side.

"So, what's a vampire doing hiding in the library? Or am I missing the punchline to a joke?" She slips into a chair opposite the one he had previously occupied, eyes sweeping over the books as her smiles widens in amusement.

Slowly seating himself and recalling how exactly it was he had become a vampire -never trust a pretty face to be harmless, he knows that now- Jasper cocks his lips up slightly at the edges. He has no desire to inform the woman of what he's looking for, nor that he is taking a break from the overwhelming love between his two travelling companions.

"Just researching. I never had much time to do it before," Jasper murmurs, long fingers reaching out for another book.

When he next looks up, the woman has a tome on magic of all things held in her hands, and though she doesn't address him again for the rest of the night, the silent companionship is... Pleasant.

.

 **Three**

.

Jasper's not quite sure how it happens, but when he keeps returning to the library and Hariel 'call me Harry' Potter keeps turns up not long after, he finds himself gaining a friend. If vampires can even have friends that is. Companion seems too open a word though, too potentially suggestive.

He wonders what Peter and Charlotte will make of Harry when they next meet up. And it seems already he assumes the woman will be following him when he does leave. Perhaps that's too presumptuous, but-

Jasper stalls when a flask is pushed before him, the liquid inside too slow and dense in its sloshing motions to be anything other than blood.

His eyes, dark with hunger, snap up to look at Harry, who has withdrawn her own flask and is steadily unscrewing the lid.

"It's from the blood-bank," she explains, nervously chewing at her lip as she does so, the action so seemingly human that Jasper is instantly drawn to it, "I added a kind of strengthener to make it last longer."

The former major wishes that he had the strength to take a tentative sip, but the second the lid is off, he finds himself draining the entire thing. It's just a little cooler than what fresh blood would be, but the taste is as pleasant as ever, a heavy flavour upon his tongue as his hunger sates.

It is only as the flask is drained dry that Jasper looks to his companion, meeting brilliant red eyes with his own. She too has ingested all of the blood her flask had to offer, pink tongue darting out to catch the spare droplet in the corner of her lips.

"I know it's nothing like sinking you teeth into someone's neck, but-"

"No, it's better," Jasper hurriedly interrupts, making an effort to smile when Harry brightens at his words, "more humane."

He doesn't say that it's the kind of solution that he's looking for, that for the first time he can feed and not have to feel the terror and desperation from every human he drains.

But what little he's said seems to have made it clear enough, because Harry shyly runs her hand through her hair and looks away.

.

He doesn't miss the smile on her face though.

.

 **Four**

.

When he next sees Peter again, Jasper finds himself significantly better off.

He's travelled through three towns with Harry and hasn't needed to feed from a human once. She's very careful to always be prepared, stealing a bag of human blood almost immediately after they've fed from the one before. What she calls a 'thickener' is more an additional substance than anything else, but when added it takes on the same properties of blood, multiplying the litre bag they have until it is enough to feed both of them without any repercussions.

And for the first time in his vampiric life, Jasper finds himself in a state of lazy contentment, maybe even happiness. It is strange, it's been such a long time since he's experienced this state of mind, but he knows he wouldn't want to give it up for the world.

Peter and Charlotte don't seem to understand, but they are both happy for him. They share a look when they meet Harry, a smug amusement wafting from their forms, though Jasper cannot begin to understand why.

They travel together for a few weeks, and though Peter and Charlotte do not understand why they get their blood as they do, they accept that it makes Jasper happy, so don't challenge it.

.

 **Five**

.

They're in a small hotel when Jasper realised just what he's feeling.

For the first time in decades he's able to go out in the sun, Harry's power stretching to cloak him from notice as surely as she hides herself. The light feels warm on his sparkling skin, a sensation he's missed something fierce.

Harry smiles a lot, it brightens her face and has the corner of her eyes crinkling ever so slightly. It has the lightning shaped scar that crackles across her brow dancing, a few forks striking down across her eyelids. He has no idea how she got such an interesting scar, though from it's starkness against her skin, he can only assume it is from her time as a human. Which is a strange though, for there are very few scars indeed that remain after the venom has done its work. Harry has a few scars that he has questions about, but Jasper holds his tongue. After all, he has no desire to explain his own, not right now. Maybe at some other time.

Watching Harry pad across the carpeted floor of the little hotel room, only a light sundress falling around her form, it hits Jasper all at once.

The lazy content, the warmth that blooms in his chest whenever Harry and he talk long enough to tease a smile out of the other, the slight jolt he gets whenever she grabs his hand to hide them with her gift.

He finds Harry attractive.

With new understanding, Jasper sweeps his eyes across her slender form, acknowledging that yes, she is exceptionally pleasing to the eye.

All vampires are, but there's something about Harry's vibrant red hair, the war paint like scar that frames her eyes, the little smiles she tries to tuck away whenever he says something that would be common talk back in his human life but passes as flattery in the current time.

.

Maybe someday he'll do something with this information but for now, sat in this hotel room watching Harry bob her head to the tune from the radio, he's happy.

.

 **Six**

.

They're in California, sat on the beach and watching the humans splash about.

.

They're both well fed, eye colour hidden beneath a glamour Harry had confessed to being able to cast. She's in a dress again, legs swinging back and forth and flip flops occasionally smacking against the soles of her feet. She's staring out at the ocean, and it is only the striking scar upon her face that does not glitter under the sunlight. It appears as vampiric skin should when hidden away beneath the clouds, it does not behave the same as any other scar Jasper has ever come across.

His own arms are covered in bite marks, all from fallen vampires who had never really been given a chance. He recognises that the whole thing was not his fault, but the memory still stings all the same.

"It's a shame we can't swim anymore," muses Harry, shuffling about in the wall, hand coming back down to rest dangerously close to his own.

Their little fingers are just brushing against one another's; Jasper can feel a nervousness leaking from Harry's form, no doubt if she had a beating heart it would be pumping faster than usual. She swallows beside him, the motion loud to his ears before he feels her hand slide over his own.

Her nerves are almost tangible in the air, and without really thinking about it, Jasper flips his own hand to better wrap his fingers between hers. They're significantly smaller than his own, as thin and slender as their owner, to the point he can full close his fingers around Harry's hand and have his fingertips almost brushing against the entirety of the back of her palm.

She doesn't seem the least bit bothered by that though because while she doesn't look at him, her nerves sizzle with excitement and happiness and lots of other pleasant sensations. It's a feeling he's never sensed in another before, at least not as a result of his own actions anyway.

Jasper likes it.

"Is this okay?" Harry asks, and while she's still looking towards the sea, he can tell that she's watching for his reaction from her peripherals.

"This is fine, Darlin'," Jasper whispers in return, even if it is more than fine. It feels right, he thinks, running his thumb across Harry's scarred knuckles.

.

Right now, right here, things might not be perfect, but it's all a damn sight better than his life before.

 **.**

 **Seven**

.

It's still a struggle whenever it's been more than a day since he fed and a human passes by.

There's not been an incident yet where he's slipped, but he fears the second he's exposed to one of them when they cut themselves, when they start bleeding, he fears what he will do. He knows exactly what will happen.

For all that Harry's method of feeding satisfies his needs, he knows his control will evaporate the moment fresh blood scents the air. It's not the solution he's looking for, not really, even if it's getting him by for now. He's terrified he'll attack one of the humans, even if he's been doing so well since Harry came into his life three months ago.

Whenever they walk somewhere now, they'll reach for each other's hands through no conscious decision of their own.

Sometimes it's his fingers that look for hers, sometimes it's her fingers that seek his. It doesn't matter either way, the other always catches them and cradles them close.

Jasper enjoys the sensation, and from the pleased contentment that bubbles from Harry's form, he knows she does too. It's peaceful, a sensation that he welcomes with open arms, so different from any other touch in the past. All the others had aimed to hurt, Maria's had been all about possessing him, like a favourite toy, one to be guarded jealously.

Harry's touch is gentle though. He's noticed she's physically weak, weaker than any other vampire that he's ever come across before.

But with her gift to go unseen by those she wishes, Jasper guesses that she has little need for physical strength. It doesn't matter, he's strong enough for the both of them.

Regardless, it's still exceptionally pleasant to know she treats him so carefully, never tempering her strength because she believes she will break him, but because she does not wish to see him hurt. It's more consideration than he's ever been given, and Jasper finds that just adds to Harry's overall appeal to him. When their fingers are linked, scarred flesh to scarred flesh, it feels right.

He's aware the attraction is growing now; he cannot remember much about relationships, not from his human life, and he does not count Maria now. He never will. He wonders if this was what it was like for Peter, if it just grew and grew, little realisation after realisation. He kind of hopes it's different; he doesn't want to share what he has with Harry with anyone else.

.

 **Eight**

.

They go to see the monuments throughout the country, passing through Washington and making their way west once again. He's seen far more of the world with Harry than he did with Peter and Charlotte. Given that they can pass unnoticed by the humans no matter the weather, perhaps that is a given.

.

Right now, they have scaled the rocky formations of the Grand Canyon under the cover of nightfall, pitching up a tent at the top for the sake of appearance.

Harry cracks open a flask, throwing the other to him as she gazes up at the night's sky. To their superior vision, it's incredible, Jasper thinks. Certainly he had never seen the stretching celestial bodies as well while human, despite the steadily increasing light pollution that has been happening over the past few decades he can still see them better than before.

Once she has finished drinking her share, Harry shuffles herself closer to him, until they're sat side by side, looking out to the east horizon that is steadily lightning in welcome to the sun and hides just beneath it.

"You know, I'm pretty bold when it comes to chasing after what I want," Harry slyly states, digging her elbow into his side as she does so.

Jasper allows an eyebrow to rise as his response, glancing at the red head from the corner of his eye only to find her looking quite intently at him. He can't quite tell if the butterflies fill his stomach or hers. Maybe both.

"You are?" He questions, for lack of anything better to say. It is as if his brain has halted, and the Texan is pretty sure that, were he human and felt the need to respire, the breath would have caught in his throat.

"Yeah, and what I want… That's you." She grins at her words, running a hand through her hair and looking ever so hopeful, looking to him with that expression.

He doesn't really think about it, they've been travelling together for a year now, pretty much solely in each other's company, and it has been the most pleasant year he's spent as a vampire yet. He wants more of them.

"Well, you've got me Darlin'," he shifts his arm back slightly and Harry takes the invitation, snuggling up against his side, not in need of warmth, but just to feel close to him.

Jasper allows his hand to come to rest upon Harry's hip and it feels right. They sit there, back to the tent and far to the dawning sun, watching the light break across the horizon.

.

And if this is what forever holds, Harry by his side and just experiencing all that they can, then he's ready for eternity to begin.

.

 **Nine**

.

A balloon of water explodes against Jasper's chest and he chokes back a laugh, shaking his head.

.

It's 1971, and both he and Harry have found themselves involved in a neighbourhood Fourth of July party. Everyone twenty-one and under are participating in a water-fight, and the two of them are passing themselves off as eighteen year old newlyweds freshly eloped from disapproving parents, they're expected to join in.

Harry has even adjusted the glamours she casts, so that he can see what she once looked like as a human, doing the same for himself.

Whenever he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror, it is still startling to see humane brown eyes staring back.

Harry's are just as rich in colour as her hair, the green of freshly cut grass, of summer leaves and flower stems. Even as a human, she was beautiful.

Her entire face lights up as she hefts another water balloon in his direction, though Jasper dodges this one. They both have to watch their speed and strength, this isn't a real game for them. But it is fun, fantastically so. Surrounded by all this positivity, all these young humans whom thrive and laugh and enjoy their youth and life, it fills him with a kind of energy he rarely gets to experience.

They'd both fed before joining in on the fun, to the point where Jasper feels so full it'd probably take a Singer for him to even consider feeding again.

Harry shrieks when a stray shot from a water gun hits her, and though the sound is only made to keep up the pretence, Jasper still nails the offender with a balloon of his own, perhaps just a little too hard a throw than he should have done.

No one notices in the madness though, his target even offering him a grin when he's done peeling his now soaking shirt off his torso.

Abandoning the game, Jasper scooping Harry up into his arms, twisting them around and burying his nose into her hair as she laughs.

It's a loud, joyous sound and is easily his favourite one in existence. It's been years since they'd met, and though they have yet to share their past with one another even now -they've both been betrayed, they can sense the kindred spirits they share, and they've both been hurt before- but he feels like the someday he'd allocated to telling Harry about himself is fast approaching.

Because Harry is his, they're married now. He might not know who Harry was in the past, but he knows who she is now, knows that whoever she'll be in the future she'll never top being his.

And that's all he cares about knowing.

.

 **Ten**

.

Alice has seen them before, dipping in and out of her visions, there one moment then gone the next.

She'd tried actively looking for the duo, but there are some days where they just allude her gift completely, and then there are others when the couple are as clear as day.

Two vampires, not feeding on humans but instead stealing occasionally from the blood bank, using some kind of mixture to make the blood last.

She thinks that, had she met the male first, perhaps she would have been his mate instead of the redhead, but vampire mates are tricky things. There are potentials out there, a small selection of people that have the potential to be ones mate. Sometimes they come together, and sometimes they don't. It is just how things work, and Alice isn't particularly upset over the fact the redhead found him first.

Because the few glimpses she's gotten of them, it's clear she loves the blond with all her heart.

She's been getting little snapshots of the two for two decades now, two vampires looking for a way to avoid drinking human blood, to retain some form of humanity. She's never mentioned it to the rest of the Cullens in the twenty-five years she's been with them, because they've always been so far away.

But right now, they're in the same city as one another.

She shoots to her feet, ignoring Edward's startled expression over what she's just seen. Two vampires blatantly stepping out into the sunshine, without even a hint of worry, and then the whole thing goes black. Dear god, Alice has to stop them.

Surely they haven't given up on finding an alternative to humans?

The two of them don't even bother to explain to Emmett what is going on, tearing free of the clearing and shooting to the location. Alice knows it well, they cross the bridge every few days to go to school.

Edward is just behind her, and though he's seen the two in her head every so often, he's never known that Alice had visions of the blond before. Before the redhead danced into his life.

.

They're too late.

Alice feels a panic like never before swell through her because the two vampires are just stood out on the sunlight, walking down the street and holding hands with one another, as if neither of them glow like diamonds along coal.

Yet, yet the humans aren't looking at them.

Alice stares in amazement, because their eyes just seem to slide right off of them, pass right on by as if neither of them are there at all.

"She's hiding them," Edward whispers in surprise beside her, his own golden eyes wide as he stares at the two. Never before has Alice wished that she could swap her gift out for Edward's and she probably never will, but right now, it is the closest she's ever come.

"What do you mean?"

"Her gift, she's making the two of them invisible to the humans." Well, that settles it.

If Alice does not make them aware of the 'vegetarian option', then the second that girl's ability gets out, the Volturi will be all over her. She needs to talk to them.

.

…As soon as they come out of the sun.

.

.

.

 **So, I made a mistake and read some Twilight/HP fanfiction, but there wasn't enough quality Femlae Harry to meet my standards (given I think there's not enough FemHP in general, that's not much of a surprise) and Jasper is my absolute favourite. So I've been writing this on my lunch break at work, it's just going to be the little side project and give me something to do after eating; don't expect chapters longer than this I guess.**

 **Tsume**

 **xxx**


	2. 11 - 20

**Ischaemia**

.

 **Eleven**

.

He had caught their scent before and wrote them off as curious vampires ensuring that the visitors weren't causing trouble. But if they were just that, there'd have been no reason for them to come back.

.

The second he senses them, Jasper puts himself between the threat and Harry, even as she too snaps to attention. He can feel her rolling anxiety pressing up against his side, and Jasper sends his own steady confidence surging back to her. The delicate fingers wrapping up in his shirt tighten ever so slightly before they relax, palm brushing against the small of his back.

Even through her own caution and his steady confidence, he can feel her steely determination, the kind that doesn't come from anything other than fighting for your life.

That thought tears him up inside, even as he pushes it away to focus on the here and now.

Physically, the vampires do not look any older than he and Harry are, but Jasper knows that appearance makes little difference. He is over a century old now, and Harry is not far off herself; it had been one of the things she'd admitted to. Ninety-five years as a vampire, turned not long after she celebrated her twenty first birthday.

Jasper wonders what the two vampires see when they look at the two of them.

He knows he is riddled with scars, knows they scream danger to those who look upon him. They should be wary, after all of the fights he has been in, all of the Newborns he has ended, he knows he can fight well. He'll tear apart anyone that threatens Harry.

The male tenses, emotions surging with an urge to protect and attack, even as Jasper reaches out to try and calm the situation. Two on two is not the odds he would prefer; he doesn't want Harry anywhere near a fight, even though he knows she can disappear when needed. That she could have them both invisible to the humans and vampires in an instant.

"Peace," the woman says, and there's a pleased smile, her emotions warm and bubbly, not threatened in the slightest but certainly cautious, "we only want to talk."

That is not what the male is projecting in the slightest.

The woman seems to realise this, because she frowns at her fellow, who begrudgingly straightens up. Jasper cannot help the growl when his eyes flicker to Harry, before he realises what is wrong.

Their eyes aren't red.

He stumbles a bit, and he must be projecting his confusion because he can feel Harry peek around his shoulder to get a better look at them. He doesn't understand why their eyes are gold, and he doesn't know if they're a threat.

Certainly he will not be risking it, not now, now that he finally has something worthwhile. He will never risk Harry.

"We're vegetarians," the male says, and all of Jasper's understanding of the world cracks once again.

.

 **Twelve**

.

Jasper and Harry sit, once again in a hotel room, and think about all that they have learnt today.

He had flat out refused to meet the whole 'vegetarian coven', already uneased by the fact the odds were two on two. He knows Harry could get away unscratched, that she's passed by fellow vampires without them knowing before under the cover of her gift.

But he has no intention of ever finding out if there is a vampire in the world that will see through her gift.

Instead, Jasper and Harry listen to what Alice and Edward Cullen have to say, and then state that they will talk to them once they have had time to gather their thoughts.

Which brings them to the present, sitting beneath the window and bathed in the lazy glow of moonlight.

Harry outline the scarring upon his jawline, fingers delicately tracing every oval bite that declares decorates his neck. Once she finishes circling one bite mark, she kisses the scar with tender lips before repeating the procesd with the next one she finds. She's nestled in his lap, legs thrown over his own and head only half resting against the crook of his neck, given that she seems intent on peppering him with kisses.

She's the first person to get near his neck in over a century that hasn't inspired in him the urge to defend and kill. He even had to continually suppress the urge with Maria. All his human life he'd been told to protect women, and now he knows they can be just as dangerous as men, if not more so given their deceiving appearance.

But Harry, Harry's his.

He'll protect her from everything that he can, and even though it grates something rotten on his nerves, he knows she'll protect him in every way that she can too.

"What do you think about it all, Darling'?" Jasper makes a very conscious attempt to keep hold on his own emotions, to not project them outwards and influence Harry.

He likes the idea of not having to survive on human blood. What they do now is good, but Jasper has always worried about control, always worried about slipping back into the monster that so dominated the first few years of his life as a vampire. He never wants Harry to see him that way. If this will teach him, if he can control himself like those two, then Jasper will follow the idea gladly.

"I'm not bothered," Harry declares, nuzzling into the column of his neck, nose pressing against the place there had once been a steady pulse, "but I know you like it. Learning that kind of control, and I'm good with that. Blood from a blood-bank, animal blood, it doesn't matter. As long as I get to see that smile you tuck into the corner of your lips, as long as I get to hear that southern drawl every day, and as long as you never stop holding me close like this, I don't care what we do. As long as I'm with you."

His mannerisms have to have rubbed off upon Harry at some point, for while she is warm and caring, she has never spoken so openly about her feelings, not unless it is something exceptionally important. Like their wedding.

"If you want to try this, then that's what we'll do, Pulse of my heart."

"Pulse of your heart?" Jasper repeats, and this smile he cannot even tuck away. The sheer ridiculousness of that statement, given what they are, is far too amusing.

"Yeah," Harry muses, cocking her head back so she can gaze up at him with carmine eyes, skin ghostly in the moonlight, "you're like my pulse now. My dad had a stupid pet-name for my mum, he used to call her Lily-Flower. And I haven't really been able to come up with anything for your background given that we've never really got around to sharing. But when I'm with you, it almost feels like my heart is beating again. You're my pulse point."

He doesn't say anything to that, cannot quite find the words. They've been married for fifteen years now, and yet, each year he finds himself impossibly falling deeper and deeper in love with this fiery woman.

"I'll tell you everything one day," Harry promises, and Jasper does not need his gift to hear the sincerity ring in those words.

.

 **Thirteen**

.

The Cullen family welcome them with cautious smiles and kind words.

.

Jasper doesn't feel in the slightest bit comfortable being more than an arms length from Harry, any more distance than that and she's out of his immediate reach to defend her.

He's seen how they all looked at him, how they took in the sight of his scars and registered that he's dangerous. And he knows that, despite her fair share of markings, the Cullens know Harry's former wounds are not from fights with fellow vampires. They know she is his weakness, and if they ever feel the need to attack, it is her they will go for first.

The whole idea makes him uneasy, and it is only through Harry's gentle reassurance she can disappear if necessary that he stays at all.

It's certainly hard, and it doesn't seem to get much better as the weeks go on.

Yet, he has to acknowledge that the Cullens are exceptionally skilled at self control. They attend school, interact with the humans when weather permits; Carlisle is even a doctor. The sheer audacity of that baffles Jasper on a regular basis, and sometimes he just needs to hold Harry close to him in order to ground himself.

It's like discovering the world outside of the Vampire Wars, it's like discovering that true and whole love can still exist as a vampire.

It's discovering that he doesn't have to be a monster, that he can hold it back, as long as he summons up the willpower necessary.

He wants it, wants it bad.

.

Sitting beneath the shade of the grand oak in the back garden, Jasper allows his eyes to flutter shut as Harry's fingers weave through his hair, occasionally catching upon the tangles the waves have fallen into. Patiently, she smooths them out, nails scraping ever so slightly against his scalp, and the sensation is wonderful. So peaceful compared to the life he had once lived.

The two of them hear the snap of car doors shutting, heralding the arrival of the student Cullens' return from school. He wonders how long it will be until he has enough control to go learn; it has been a very long time since he had any form of education.

When the door opens, it is Edward that calmly walks out into the garden, sparkling beneath the sun until he tentatively joins them beneath the cover of the oak leaves.

Jasper has yet to open his eyes, but he's intimately aware of the mind-reader's every move. If he so much as twitches towards Harry, then-

"How are you adjusting to the diet?"

Jasper's eyes open, showcasing the unnatural orange colour they now glow, still in the transition stage from red to gold. Harry's own are the same, and he's quite looking forwards to seeing the striking difference that a golden eyed Harry will present.

Her fingers still in his hair for a second, one palm coming to rest on the side of his cheek, gently tipping his head to a side so that Harry can get a better look at his eyes. She's smiling, a bemused little thing that warms her face right up, thumb brushing against his cheekbone.

God he loves her.

"Struggling," Jasper admits, and it's true.

Animal blood is different, it works, but it's never quite enough, always just a little short. He's still hungry afterwards. But it's always an ignorable hunger. He can get by, and he's starting to get the slightest bit of control in return. Maybe it's just an illusion of control, but right now, it works. That's all that matters to Jasper, results.

They sit in silence a bit longer, Harry's hands returning to brushing through her hair. He wonders what this would have felt like if they were humans. To have Harry's fingers feel warm as they untangle his hair, to have her thighs soft and comfortable beneath his head. He can barely recall being warm, but the instinct to curl around Harry is still there whenever they just lay together. Now it is more of a protective thing, nothing about sharing body heat. He misses the idea of it.

"What's it like, having a mate?" Edward asks quietly, far too quiet for a human to have ever heard him.

Jasper hums in contentment, allowing Harry to field that question.

"I assume it'll be different for everyone. For me though, Jasper is everything. He's the reason I keep moving, instead of just standing still. I have no interest in this veggie diet, I was content living off the blood-bank, but this is what Jasper wants to do, so here I am. It's compromising, and not working around one another but clicking together instead. Two halves of a whole."

Harry's other hand, which had come to rest by his arm, is quickly snatched up by Jasper's own. He links their fingers together, pressing his lips to her knuckles and smiling into them.

"That's what love means, Darlin'."

"He asked what it's like, not what it is," Harry grumbles, giving a playful tug at his hair and Jasper snickers into her knuckles.

.

 **Fourteen**

.

When Harry tells him about her past, it's really not what he's expecting.

Not in the least.

.

"So you'll be born in another four years?" Jasper asks carefully, senses stretched out.

He's spent years with Harry, the Cullens don't get to hear her past after spending only nine months with her- but no, they're the only ones sat this deep within the forest. He can hear a lumbering bear some distance away, but they've hunted not an hour ago.

They're sitting in a tree, Harry between his legs with her back to his torso, lying upon him. Harry, who is apparently both a time traveller and a dimension hopper.

"I looked all over the world; there's absolutely no magic here. There's a half-hearted attempt at Hogwarts, probably from one of the other prisoners thrown through the veil before me, but we snap their wands before we sent them off. It doesn't exactly spit us out one after the other either. There's years between each arrival."

"And your godfather?" Jasper asks, voice soft as his thumb strokes Harry's protruding hipbone.

"Married some Native American woman years before I got here... I met him once, just once more before I got turned. He was really old, Wizards live a lot longer than regular humans. He was pleased to know I was still alive, wanted me to live a happy life... I still visit his grave whenever I'm in that area. Check in on his descendants too. Even if it's just from a distance."

Harry had been all alone in this world before they found each other, Jasper realises, even more than himself. She'd had everything ripped from her. He at least, had gained Peter, and then Charlotte too, friends. His family are still around; while his sister has long since died, her own descendants are still going. Jasper keeps track, from a distance. He's never seen them in person, doesn't trust himself with them.

"He had a picture of the two of us," Harry recalls, cocking her head back to rest on his shoulder and stare up at the canopy of trees, "a muggle one, but he still had it. I wonder if his descendants kept it."

.

 **Fifteen**

.

The first out of them to slip isn't Jasper.

.

He comes back from a trip into town, a cloudy day hiding what both he and Edward are, only to find Harry sitting at the table with sunglasses over her eyes and a pained grimace on her face.

Jasper is on her in an instance, bundling her into his arms, growling when Emmett takes a step towards them.

"Woah there, Cowboy," he cautions, throwing his hands up in a calming a manner as a vampire of his size can manage, "we didn't do anything. She just found her Singer."

Damn.

It certainly explains the shame rolling from Harry.

He sends calm reassurance towards her, even as his mind spins.

Even before she met him, Harry has always been careful to avoid drinking from a human; ever since the humans started bleeding one another for blood transfusions, she's been stealing the odd packet and mixing in a potion in order to create enough of a drink to get by.

This is the first time she's slipped in decades.

The sheer disappointment she's feeling in herself is indication enough of how well she's handling it.

While he may not be an empath himself, Emmett can read the mood enough to know when his presence is unwanted. He slips out of the door with surprising stealth, leaving Jasper alone with Harry.

Her eyes are a bright red, when they had been gold for so many weeks now. Back to the start.

"I killed an innocent person today," she whispers and Jasper nuzzles into her neck in response, ensuring that as much of him as possible is wrapped around her.

"That makes one to my however many hundred," Jasper points out, feeling Harry tense in his grasp.

"That's not-"

"Don't dare say it's not the same. It is, and you know it."

Harry sighs into his collar and Jasper just holds her tighter, trying to ignore the delectable scent the still clings to her lips. It's just blood, and what's more important here and now, is Harry.

.

They remain curled up in the living room and time takes on that questionable quality; ten minutes could have passed, of it could be ten hours.

It is not until Esmé pokes her head in that Jasper remembers it is no longer the two of them, that there are others that care now.

"Sorry," Harry murmurs, and Esmé just shakes her head.

"It's okay, Harry, Emmett's been at it longer than you and he's slipped too. Just give it time."

As they are now, time is something both Harry and Jasper have to spare.

.

 **Sixteen**

.

They're splitting up from the Cullens for the next two weeks; while Carlisle will be arranging the paperwork for Harry and Jasper to join them in this next move, this next play at family life, Harry wants to check in on her godfather's descendants.

They race across the vast land of America, ducking in and out of states, eating up the distance between their previous location and their destination.

Jasper's not sure how far out they are given that Harry is the one leading, but the only warning he gets is a surge in emotion, not even the time to work out just what is hitting him, before Harry tackles him to the forest floor.

Jasper goes down with a muffled bang, the sound promptly overshadowed by the thunderous crash of their bodies colliding at such high speed.

Harry's playful mood is a blatant slap in the face, even as he wrestles against her to regain control of the situation.

Harry is not the strongest of vampires, physically she's the weakest one he's ever met -and by God does the worry him every time they meet someone new- though her powers make up for that.

Still, after all of the training sessions they have done, all the times Jasper has taught her how to escape a hold that would kill her, she's a slippery thing. Her limbs slide through his grip as if they are coated in oil, and even with vampiric speed it takes him just under a minute to pin her down.

Arms held over her head, body trapped under his, waist and hips held tight between his legs, Jasper's poised in such a way that he could rip out her throat with his teeth, should he wish.

Instead, he lowers his lips to hers, swallowing back the venom that pools in his mouth.

Harry's hips buck up against his and, yes okay, he has no complaints about this.

.

 **Seventeen**

.

Jasper has met a shifter only once before.

Back when both himself and Harry had been travelling through Brazil, having raced right past Mexico without stopping. Jasper did not, nor will ever, have any inclination to revisit that country again.

The man they met had showcased the ability to turn into a jaguar at will, far larger than the local wildlife. He had also smelt especially foul to both of them, so after a quick couple of questions, the two of them had high-tailed it back to America.

They did however know that the presence of vampires set off the change in shifters.

Hence why both himself and Harry are hidden beneath her gift, Jasper standing before a grave-marker while Harry kneels upon the ground and traces the carved words.

' _Sirius Black, beloved husband and father and godfather_ ' is engraved upon the surface, and it is that last two words Harry runs her fingertips across. The handwriting on the gravestone is clearly different; it's evident that Harry added that last bit herself, Jasper would recognise her penmanship anywhere. He feels concentration well from Harry, and a minute later, beautiful sunflowers are curling into existence, forming a wreath she rests against the stone base.

"Sirius' mother hated sunflowers," Harry confines, running a hand through her hair, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a folded photograph. Within it, a younger human Harry smiles at the camera, curled under the arm of a man that can be none other than Sirius Black. The clothing is just as she'd described, robes that gave no indication of the date, though the photography is evidentially far more advanced than what they are capable of today.

Harry lays it beside the flowers, weighing it down with two small pebbles and smiling as she does so.

"Of course since his mother hated them, they quickly because Sirius' favourite flower... I'm glad he was happy in the end."

Jasper hums, not quite able to understand the emotions pouring off of Harry, even if he could feel them. He wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side and inhales her scent, allowing the familiarity of it to ground him.

He doesn't say it, but he's both saddened and relieved to have never met Sirius Black. Sad, for the man had clearly been the closest Harry had come to a father figure, and he'd have quite fancied his approval when he wedded Harry.

Relieved though, because if what Harry has told him is not in fact an exaggeration, then the man would have probably never let him anywhere near Harry.

Harry leans into his side, cheek resting upon his shoulder as her fingers drag across the grave stone one final time before she gets to her feet. Jasper joins her, the both of them turning to the only heartbeat in the cemetery.

A teen, clearly Native American, stares back at them, his eyes focused upon Harry with confusion evident on a face that quickly flood with a steely kind of determination.

Jasper doesn't question it, instead snatching Harry up and fleeing.

The male clearly recognised them to be vampires, and Jasper would rather not wait around to find out just what the teen will do.

Even if part of him is curious as to how he saw through Harry's gift. Then again, had she adjusted it so they couldn't be seen by shifters, or had she just not expected to run into one?

Regardless, they hightail it right out of there, and it is not for another thirty or so years that they return.

.

 **Eighteen**

.

"Alice is my mate."

Where she's sat beside him, Harry cocks her head to a side, eyes curious and clearly questioning why he felt the need to announce this.

.

It's been years since Harry and Jasper had joined thire covern, but the trust between them has been a slow growing thing. After all, the most recently turned vegetarians haven't exactly been particularly open, not that Edward can blame them.

Most often than not, Harry's strange gift hides their most important thoughts from him, concealing both her own past and Jasper's. After listening to Jasper's tale, his early days as a vampire and the story behind the network of scars that cover him, Edward cannot really blame them.

While he does not yet know Harry's past, he knows that she did not share with Jasper, her husband and mate, until they had been together for decades. So, as curious as he is, he will not push.

Not right now anyway.

"I'm sensing a but?" Harry muses leaning back on the school bench and flicking a wild curl from where it hangs beside her eye.

It's fourth period, and as juniors, both himself and Harry have no lesson to attend, unlike their fellow vampires. The official Cullens had moved to town three months ago, Harry following a month later and posing as an 'exchange student'. She is after all the only one of them without an American accent. Carlisle had lost his years ago, but Harry's clings persistently with every word she pronounces.

It does make things easier; people have no reason to whisper about the relationship between herself and Jasper, unlike with Emmett and Rosalie.

"It's not complete," Edward admits, forcing himself to fidget given the way all the other students keep glancing at them from the corner of their eyes, "it's like there's a piece missing."

It's already so difficult to explain why it feels wrong, but Harry seems to get it, nodding her head before propping it up on her palm, elbow resting upon her knee. She's wearing Jasper's jock jacket over her shoulders and the material all but swallows her form; no doubt if she zipped it closed it'd appear as if she were trying to pass the jacket off as a dress. Her hands sparkle in the light and Edward has to admit, with Harry is has become much easier to hide what they are. They can now go out on the sun, as long as they do not venture too far from her. Harry can hide the telltale sparkle from the humans, which allows them to live in sunnier towns.

"Almost like you're two puzzle pieces, but the pictures not quite finished?"

Harry questions, pulling Edward's attention back onto the topic he's hesitantly opened. The way she describes it though, it fits. Like looking upon the picture of a park or beach, only there's a section hidden by the shadows that cannot be seen. A section that both himself and Alice want to see, but just cannot breach.

"You just have to find the other one then," Harry muses, "not all relationships come as a boy and girl finding one another. Sometimes it's a boy and a boy, or a girl and a girl, and sometimes it's more than two people. Who are we to question how the world works?"

She shrugs, offering him a grin before she gets to get feet, stretching her arms above her head and dislodging Jasper's jacket.

Edward catches the fabric, holding it out so that Harry can slip her arms into the sleeves.

"Come on, they should be done with their lesson by now."

And Edward follows, wondering if Alice will ever see the missing piece in one of her visions.

.

 **Nineteen**

.

Harry insists on going to England, her large golden eyes wide and pleading and Jasper just cannot say no.

So, they go to England.

It is just for a quick look around, Harry proclaims, though Jasper can tell she plans otherwise.

Carlisle agrees to come with them, more to ensure they both stay in control of their cravings than any desire to see his homeland again. Jasper cannot even blame the man, just recently Harry has been quite manic, pacing back and forth in her room until she seems to have broken whatever resolve she set herself.

.

As such, on December 1st, 1981, they race out of the sea, having forsaken the long-winded air travel in favour of running themselves there.

A quick stop to feed upon a passing herd of deer and Harry is once again off, this time heading for Wales.

He recalls that Harry has only visited her home country once since arriving in this universe, back during WWII. He has no idea just why she had done so, though the time does line up with the childhood of her former mortal enemy. Jasper does not wish to question it though; if Harry wanted to talk about it, then she would do so.

.

They arrive in a cozy little village known as Godric's Hallow, the buildings so very different to what Jasper has seen in America that he just takes a moment to stare in surprise. There's a thick tone of history to this place, the little cottages appearing more homely than he'd previously believed any building had right to.

Harry moves as if she is in a daze, Carlisle slipping into the background, though no doubt there if they need him.

Jasper follows his wife at a sedated pace, watching as she stops before a fountain, eyebrows furrowed, as if she had been expecting something else to exist in its place.

"Darlin'?" Jasper reaches out, capturing Harry's hand with his own and threading their fingers together. The gentle squeeze he gets in return is the only indication that she realises he's there, instead turning and making her way towards the local church. His long legs stride forwards, keeping them at an even pace even as Harry hurries slightly beside him. Not enough to give away that they are more than human, but just two people in a bit of a hurry.

She pauses before one grave, marked as the final resting place of one ' _Ignotus Peverell_ ', tracing out an invisible symbol beneath his name, as if recreating a marking that should have been there but remains absent. Jasper doesn't get the time to ask, because she pulls him further information he graveyard, stopping before a patch of untouched earth with a strange look upon her face.

"Darlin'," repeats Jasper, this time catching Harry's chin with his unoccupied fingers and tilting her head back to look at him. Her eyes are glassy, and it's almost as if she's looking straight through him, like he's not even there.

It's the kind of gaze that has Jasper's stomach sinking to the floor.

"Harry sweetheart, look at me, please?"

She blinks once, then twice before finally a semblance of of focus returns to her features. Even if he isn't human, Jasper still lets out a sigh of relief, pressing his forehead to Harry's and wrapping his arms around her.

He knows a great deal about Harry's past now; Godric's Hallow was where she spent the first year of her life, and these two empty plots before them, they were probably filled with the bodies of her parents in the alternate world.

"Lily-flower?!"

The shocked gasp has the both of them looking up, Jasper stilling when he recognises the smell beneath the aroma of human.

A bespeckled man with wild curls of black hair stares at them both in shock, cheeks flushing with embarrassment upon realising it is not in fact 'Lily-flower' he is addressing. Jasper has heard that nickname before, not when it is used in context, but still-

"Ack, sorry. You look like my wife from the back," the man admits, rubbing sheepishly at the back of his head, a grin on his hazel eyes, "but her eyes are green." He makes no mention of the fact Harry's upper face is covered in a great big scar, and Jasper mentally awards them points for that.

"And she's at work," the man mumbles, as if realising just how silly he'd been, and the whole thing has Jasper's lips lifting at the corners.

Taking a step forwards, Jasper raises his hand, offering it to the other man, "I'm Jasper Whitlock, and this is my lovely wife, Hariel Whitlock."

Harry hasn't moved an inch, Jasper can feel the shock and longing pouring off of her, and it is only because he knows her so well that he does not feel jealous.

It isn't a lustful longing, but a craving for family.

Given who he suspects to be in the pram beside this man, Jasper can understand why.

"Oh, er, James Potter. Nice to meet'ya... You know, my little girl's called Hariel," the man muses, looking Harry over again, as if trying and succeeding in picking out familiar features.

But this is a world without magic, Harry had spent years looking for it. The closest thing she has found are the vampires themselves, so James Potter will not even begin to guess the truth.

"It's a good name," Jasper says, "heroic and beautiful and-"

"It's lucky too," Harry finishes, finally having snapped out of her stupor to step forwards and join in the conversation.

Jasper wraps an arm around her waist, peppering a kiss to her forehead as Harry smiles.

"Lucky?" James repeats, an eyebrow raised as he pulls back the top of the pram to expose the little redhead inside.

An alternate Harry.

How is this now his life, were the existence of vampires not enough madness already?

"Well, I've not met another Hariel yet, but given I was lucky enough to find a man as wonderful as Jasper, your little girl's got luck on her side."

More like there is no Dark Lord here threatening this family. In that respect, little Hariel Potter is already far luckier than his Harry.

Choking a little at the very idea, James Potter scowls at the thought of future husbands, though he does look between the two of them again with a pensive expression.

"You mind if I get a picture? It's just, Lily's never gonna believe I met her doppelgänger otherwise."

At that, Harry laughs, bitter only to his ears, but she nods regardless.

"Sure, as long as we get a copy."

.

Just before they run into the sea a day later, ready to return to America, Harry seals the photograph of them in a protective plastic cover.

Within it, Jasper has Harry tucked up against his side, cradling the little Hariel in his other arm.

Never before has he considered it, but looking upon the image, a deep regret wells within him.

Looking upon that tiny red head, he can see a little blond toddler instead, with wispy curls of hair falling in front of green eyes. Even though he knows it will never be, because he and Harry will never be able to have children.

.

That doesn't stop the longing that settles deep within his ribcage though.

.

 **Twenty**

.

Despite the preface of being twins, Jasper has never really understood Rosalie, not past the point that neither of them had wished to become vampires.

She has always seemed vain and secretive, never wishing to share her backstory with either him or Harry. Not that Jasper cares too much about what she was like as a human, it's how she is as a vampire that he girly cares about. She cares for the family, and she appreciates Harry's gift to allow them to pass beneath the sun's rays without notice. They have a tentative friendship, both Rosalie and wife. More than what Jasper shares with her anyway.

.

Funnily enough, it is just himself and her in the house when it happens.

.

Jasper is sitting in his room, pencil a blur as it streaks across the paper, forming a small, cherubic face upon the sheet.

It's not the first time he's found himself drawing the same idea over and over again, but each time it comes out a little different.

A boy or a girl, anywhere between the age of one and five, but it is always a mixture of his and Harry's features.

Part of him wishes he had never gone to England, because even now, three years later, he cannot get the idea out of his head, nor can he ever get the face just right. No matter what he does, the child he tries imagining never turns out right. It's not healthy, to fixate on this, but whenever he's alone, he just cannot stop. Or rather, when he thinks he's alone.

The sharp gasp behind him is clear enough of that, Jasper doesn't bother to hide the sketch, well aware Rosalie has already seen it, and instead waits.

"What is that?"

"A pipe-dream," Jasper answers, blowing away the eraser shavings before pulling out the craft-book he has been keeping. Inside is every single attempted sketch, but none of them ever look right.

Jasper doubts they ever will.

Not until he sees the real thing.

No, he will never get to see the real thing, he forcibly reminds himself, watching as Rsoalie flips through it. She stops on the very first page, where the photograph of himself, Harry and little Hariel rests, running her fingers over it.

"How long-"

"We met that little girl's father in England," Jasper answers before Rosalie can even get her question out, "he said Harry was the double of his wife, and wanted a photo to prove it. We got a copy, and it's not left my mind since."

He doesn't need to say just what it is, Rosalie's desperate desire makes it clear enough she understands.

She doesn't say anything more, doesn't ask what Harry's opinion on this is -his wife has already made it clear she'd have loved nothing more than to have children, but in the face of that impossibility that she is happy with Jasper alone- instead handing him the book back before disappearing.

.

If on their next move, Jasper spots a similar book packed in with Rosalie's things, well, he doesn't say anything.

.

.

.

 **Right, word of warning I guess, this is gonna be a Edward/Alice/Bella. Simply because I like the idea of mates not being so cemented in the idea of boy and girl pairing, job done.**

 **Tsume**

 **xxx**


	3. 21 - 30

**Ischaemia**

.

 **Twenty-One**

.

When the Cullens make plans to go and stay with their 'cousins' in their next 'new life', Jasper opts out for both himself and Harry. He's practically crawling the walls; they've been through this charade five times already, and he needs a change of pace.

Going out and seeing the world, venturing around Europe, a place neither himself or Harry have ever explored, sounds fantastic.

The Cullens see them off at the airport, and they agree to keep in contact via phone, to meet up again when they go on to start the next big façade after this one.

It is actually Jasper's first time on a plane, Harry's too. She's snuck two flasks of animal blood on board, hidden from sight with her gift and they have opted out of airplane cuisine, claiming it upsets their stomachs. Which is quite true, after all.

Sitting in first class side by side, Harry spreads a map out across their thighs, featuring all of Europe if one discounts the UK, which has painstakingly been scribbled out.

"We'll have to be careful in Italy," Jasper whispers, tracing out the country in question, well aware Harry's bare thigh rests beneath. Bless the humans and their increasingly short dresses.

"It's the home of the Volturi. Given your rather brilliant power..." He doesn't need to say any more. Alice has already told them of the ancient vampires of Italy, how they had attempted to acquire both herself and Edward.

Jasper isn't being particularly bias when he places Harry's gift in the same level of usefulness as his fellow vampires' powers. Perhaps even a bit higher, come to think of it.

Passing unseen by the humans, able to hide in the case of any attack, it's a very useful gift. And that is not to speak of the magic she has retained from her human life, even if it takes a lot of concentration and energy to use.

"I want to see some culture in Spain," Harry murmurs, fingers running over the Spanish coast and subsequently getting higher and higher on Jasper's thigh.

"How's your gift at covering a small area?" Jasper hisses from between clenched teeth, abandoning the map to grip at Harry's hips the instant she straddles him.

"Already on it."

.

 **Twenty-Two**

.

While in Mexico, Jasper had picked up quite a fair bit of Spanish, and while some of his phrases were a bit old fashioned, it was more than enough to get by.

French however, Jasper doesn't understand a lick of it.

Thankfully, Harry does, the language being one of the two she'd picked up while hunting for any signs of magic before they'd met. Italian is the second on that list, but they have no need of that yet.

Right now, they are reclined upon a beach in Nice, France.

Harry lays front down upon the towel, clad only in a pair of brilliant green bikini pants. There's many a woman parading around topless, an equally great number attempting to catch Jasper's eye, but he cannot tear his gaze away from the woman that lays next to him. Harry's head is cradled within her forearms, turned on a side to glance up at him. They both have a flask of animal blood within arm's reach, not that they'll really need it given they fed just a night ago, but it is there if they feel like it. These next few years after all are for relaxing in, to act as a break from all having to hold up a constant façade.

"You're gathering a fair bit of attention," muses Harry, rolling onto her back and pulling on a pair of sunglasses to block out the sun.

Jasper hums in agreement to whatever it is she just said, far too enthralled upon the twin dusky pink peaks that are now within his sight.

Even though he barely acknowledges the little smirk at the edge of Harry's lips, the smugness she oozes lets him know she is very conscious over what she's doing.

"I love the Cullens, they're family now, but it is so nice to get away and just be Harry and Jasper again," Harry admits, arching her back as she stretches.

"If being Harry and Jasper means more time spent like this, Darlin', then we'll be having a third honeymoon right after the next charade."

Laughing into her arm, Harry sits herself up, fingers gathering her curls into a loose ponytail before she darts off to the ocean.

Jasper growls as he takes off after her, snatching her up and swinging them around, salt water smashing lazily against his calves as the ocean wave continue to work its their up the beach.

"Where do you think your going?" Jasper snaps playfully, shaking his catch about as Harry laughs a little more.

"I'm leaving you for a merman," she states, trying and failing to keep a straight face, "I hear they've got palaces down their under the waves."

"Palaces, really, Sweetheart?"

"Oh yeah, beds covered in shimmering moss and surrounded by all kinds of colourful coral. I'll even have a pet shark, to guard the door whenever I fancy taking my mere-prince."

"Oh, so you're leaving me for a prince now?"

"Well he does whisper sweet nothings in my ear," Harry jokingly admits as he sets her back down on her feet, her hands running smoothly up the sides of his ribs a clear contrast to her words. She wants him, as surely as he wants her.

"Well I can find you a bed made of silks so soft they feel like liquid, and I can bring you colourful flowers every day for the rest of eternity. And no one would ever interrupt us as I make love to you, Darlin', because you'll be screaming so loud they'll be too embarrassed at their own lack of skill to approach."

"And the sweet nothings?" Harry asks, words breathless as Jasper presses his forehead to hers, letting his eyes fall shut as his grip on Harry's hips tightens with desire.

"Whatever I say to you will never be considered nothing. Each word that passes my lips will be coated in so much love it will drip from every syllable."

.

And that is how Jasper manages to charm Harry into not leaving the hotel bedroom for three days.

.

 **Twenty-Three**

.

They're making tracks through Asia, more than a year into their journey, when Jasper witnesses the first act of magic not performed by Harry.

.

Atop Mount Everest, scaled just to say that they've done so, Harry pulls out a camera and sets it up on a rock formation, having to group a fair bit of snow around the casing to hold it in place. She bounces over to Jasper, wrapping her arms around his own, the both of them dressed in huge bulky coats as if they are actually mountain climbers. Harry grins as the camera flashes, capturing their image for what seems like the thousandth time on film.

Harry has a whole scrapbook that she's been filling since they began their adventure in Spain, detailing all of their travels. While they occasionally call in to the Cullens, letting them know they're still alive -sort of- and kicking, Harry insists on sharing the story of their travels in person. Which is why they're attempting to do as many iconic things as possible while on their journey.

They've gone through five cameras already; one lost somewhere on a beach in Spain, another underwater when their boat in Greece had overturned (funnily enough, they'd been declared the only two fatalities of that disaster by authorities, given they'd sunk as opposed to floating), two crushed whenever their desire for the other grew out of control, and the final one ended up accidentally sealed in a time in Egypt. The archaeologist to open that tomb for the 'first time' is surely in for a surprise.

Jasper cannot find it in himself to be sorry for it, and they even cleared the place of the more deadly traps. They only took off with a few bracelets and amulets out of the whole treasure trove.

Oh, and a pretty crown, evidentially stolen by the Egyptians from somewhere outside of their country, given the design.

Harry had laughed when he crowned her though, so Jasper considered it a win.

Pulling the film free of the camera, Jasper wiggles it around in the thin air, staring at the photograph of their grinning faces, half hidden beneath scarves while their exposed skin sparkles.

They look happy, Jasper thinks, sitting back on one of the rocks as he considers what life now consists of.

No, they are happy, he concludes, picking up the camera and strapping it onto his belt. Hopefully this one will last; they've only got one more left in Harry's expandable pouch.

.

They've paused beneath an overhanging ledge, the clouds now thick around them during their descent, when the air beside Harry flickers.

Jasper snaps to attention, pulling Harry into the protective cage of his arms before she even realises he's spotted something.

The strangeness grows, forming a ring of smoke perhaps two feet wide, just floating their in the air.

When it clears, Harry gasps in his hold.

"Hermione?"

There is indeed the image of a bushy haired girl in the wispy air, and she's staring delightedly at Harry.

"Harry! You're alive! Thank Merlin, we were terrified when you fell through the veil. I've been trying to contact you for weeks! Where are you, we'll come and get you and- oh!"

Her brown eyes widen when they at long last spot Jasper, her lips parting in a cute little 'o' shape with a blush dusting her cheeks.

"I'm in another dimension, Hermione. It's been a century for me."

The bushy haired witch gapes, completely losing interest in Jasper as she stares at Harry and really takes her in, really looks at the change that Harry's vampiric state has brought about.

"There's no going back, I've looked and researched and... And I don't want to go back," Harry admits, her hands coming up to wrap around Jasper's wrists. Not for any reason other than to just keep a hold of him.

"Oh Harry," this 'Hermione' breathes, looking between the pair of them with a warm, tearful smile.

"I'm Harry Whitlock now, and this is my husband, Jasper."

"You're so lucky, Harry, he's gorgeous," she chokes, as if she'd not meant to blurt that last bit out, her face reddening even more.

"Thank you, Ma'am."

"And he's a gentleman too. Mrs Weasley will be thrilled when I tell her. Harry, I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to get in contact again, but I promise I'll tell everyone you're fine and happy and-"

"And that you'll name your first child after us?" Harry pitches in, watching as the brunette gives a wet laugh, swiping at her tear streaked face with tanned hands.

"Of course I will, Harry. I'd ask the same, but I'm pretty sure you'll name your kid after Sirius."

Harry tenses up in his arms, and Jasper forces himself to not let his feelings show on his face, to not give away that they will not be able to name a child after Sirius Black. Because they can never have one.

Their pain radiates together, a symphony of desperate longing even as Harry offers her best-friend a smile. A smile that Jasper would have never guessed to be false without his understanding of the situation.

"Yep. I got to see him once before he died here, he died with kids and grandkids and great grandkids."

"That's good, I'm just, so happy you're happy Harry. We love you."

"I love you all too," Harry whispers as the brunette disappears and the mountain side grows silent again.

In the silence, the absence of their heartbeats is loud and clear, and Jasper bundles Harry tighter into his arms, allowing the snow to clump around them.

.

They don't move for several hours.

.

 **Twenty-Four**

.

Despite the camera's primary objective being to capture their adventures around the world, it is not the only thing Harry has been using the clever little picture capturer for.

A day before his birthday, Jasper returns to the hotel to find Harry absent, a note left in place of her with instructions.

A birthday treasure hunt, her written word claims, and Jasper finds his attention peaking in interest.

At the bottom of the note is a number and a word. It takes Jasper two hours to figure out the word is actually an acronym for the book upon American history he has been reading, and when he flips to the correct page number, his eyes widen.

Slotted between the pages is a photograph of Harry.

She is reclining upon the very bed he currently sits atop, in nothing but a pair of silken black panties.

' _Laid on this bed, thinking about you, I remember when we first meet, it was all because of a building of books,_ ' is scrawled across the label, two kisses upon the end of the message.

He spends nearly an hour staring at the picture of Harry, laid out on the sheets with only a gathering of petals around her before he recognises the next clue. For certainly there were no cherry blossom petals on the bed now.

.

After painstaking questions with the locals and finally finding one that spoke English, Jasper finds himself at the nearby park, where the cherry blossom trees are all blooming brilliantly, even beneath the cloudy sky. Nailed to one tree and clearly hidden from human eyes by Harry's gift is a letter with his name upon it.

Jasper tears it free, opening up the thin envelope to reveal a second photo. Harry is sat in one of the trees, now clothed in a dress, red curls flowing over one shoulder to expose a sharp collarbone. The picture itself was taken when the sun was shining, and there are patches of sparkling skin where the light has penetrated through the tree leaves.

' _While the blooms are pretty, I don't quite appreciate the smell as much as the first handful of bluebells you gave me, so I'm going for a historical dip_ '.

Pocketing the photo, Jasper glances up and notes the dark blue and red bracelet, made of powerfully coloured threads all braided together. Any doubt that this is meant for him dies a swift death when he notes the tiny ' _pulse of my heart_ ' worked into the pattern.

He finds himself at the oldest onsen in the general vicinity three hours later, acquiring another letter, another picture and another present.

 _'I made some friends, who taught me how to tie my kimono. Now I just need to go buy a lucky one to wear for you, so you may take it off beneath the stars_ '.

Harry smiles up at him, submerged in the water right up to her chin, and he can only just make out the subtle curves of her body through the steaming liquid.

In the background, three other women, Japanese and clearly human, are giggling between themselves. He scans through the writing again, a translated map of the area spread out before him, and he zones in on the shopping district, which will probably be the location of his next clue. A pair of traditional Japanese sandals are what he acquires that time, before taking off for the next location.

The shop is known as the lucky star in the native language, and it is just before closing hours that Japser slips inside. Within, a no nonsense elderly woman who sneers at his blatant American accent shoves a parcel into his arms and forcibly bundles him from the door. Given that she doesn't look that much younger than Jasper's actual age, it's quite surprising.

Regardless, when he unwraps the papers, he finds a exquisitely simple kimono inside, dark blue edged with an easy white finish.

There's a photo of Harry once again, though only a headshot this time, focusing more on looking upon the mirror behind her. She's once again in her underwear, clearly in the middle of a fitting. The shot those justice to the curve of her backside, Jasper concludes.

' _There's a lot of stars in the sky, much more than I could possibly count. I remember that night we spent attempting to do so. But bursts of fire would be much brighter,_ '

It takes a while to find the fireworks factory, and by then it is a mere hour from midnight, a mere hour from his birthday. There's no workers inside, all is silent save the very quiet humming of a record player. Given that the tune is American, Jasper assumes it is meant for him.

It takes a moment of recall, but he knows this song, it had been one of those playing when he danced with Harry, just after they married. This time, there are no words upon the photograph, only the image of a hill. He knows which one it is already, for it is but a thirty second run from their hotel.

.

Upon his arrival, fireworks light up the night's sky, and Harry is stood there, looking beautiful in that exotic kimono, the earthy golds and greens doing wonders for her. Cherry blossoms are scattered artfully in her hair, her hands clasped in front of her body as he approaches.

Jasper stops, just before her and smiles, projecting all of the love and happiness he feels towards this woman out, to make her aware of just how lucky he feels to be graced with her presence in his life.

"Happy birthday."

And he doesn't need an endearment on the ends of that sentence to hear her clear love for him.

.

He's going to have to think of something spectacular for her birthday.

.

 **Twenty-Five**

.

They return to America well travelled.

They have a vast array of gifts hidden away in Harry's ever expanding pouch -mostly clothes for Rosalie, but Jasper gathers she'll quite appreciate them- ready to distribute to the Cullen coven. It is upon their return however, that they find out Carlisle's intended destination.

"Forks," Jasper repeats cautiously, sharing a look with Harry as he does so. If it is the Forks Jasper is thinking of, then it is the one dangerously close to the shifters of La Push, dangerously close to Sirius Black's descendants. Descendants who would burst into animal form upon the proximity of so many vampires.

"Do you know it?" Carlisle cautiously asks, his amber eyes narrowing in consideration.

"My godfather's descendants live at La Push," Harry confirms, running a hand through her hair and sighing heavily as she does so, the fact she has picked this up as a nervous tick, ingrained behaviour, shows how often she feels the need to express her anxiety to those around her.

"These descendants-"

"They can change into canine," Harry confirms, "some kind of cross between Sirius' grim form and a wolf."

At this, Carlisle gives a tight smile, slowly seating himself at the table for what looks to be a long discussion.

Pulling out a chair, Jasper ensures that Harry is sitting comfortably before he takes his own seat, fingers encircling Harry's wrist and coming to rest just where her pulse would be, had she a beating heart.

"A few decades ago, we settled down to live not too far away from La Push. Subsequently, it was not too long until we met the natives of the land..."

.

They learn of the treaty between the natives of La Push and the Cullen Coven that day.

Harry is devastated to realise she will no longer be able to visit Sirius' grave.

.

Jasper holds her close and wonders just when the world will stop trying to ruin their happiness.

.

 **Twenty-Six**

.

It would have been too suspicious for them to all have been in the same year. As such, coins were flipped, bets were made and arm wrestles happened.

When the dust settled, it has been concluded that Harry, Alice and Edward were to pose as the trio a year younger than the other 'Cullen kids'. They were all to be Carlisle's adopted children, all but Harry who now finds herself claiming to be Carlisle's third cousin, orphaned a scant four years ago and now living with her closest blood relative. Her background options are a bit more varied than the others, given that she has yet to lose her English accent. In fact, throughout all these years it has yet to give a hint of weakening.

Jasper loves it.

Watching her flick through the course books, swearing beneath her breath at once again over attending school when this time last year they were exploring Indian, is quite amusing.

It will be a different experience, because no matter how many times they have run through his whole play, Harry always makes it interesting. Jasper is reasonably certain he could do nothing other than sit in a meadow for years, and as long as he has Harry by his side, he will never find a fault with it, would never wish for something else to do.

Harry's bare feet are in his lap, toenails painted a bewitching mixture of scarlet and gold, occasionally flexing as she reads one thing or another in her textbook.

One of Jasper's hands holds up a small novella, fiction with a surprisingly accurate characterisation of confederate army soldiers. With his other hand lazily clasping one of Harry's shins, his thumb and fingers stroke gently at her ankle, the flesh smooth beneath his touch.

Around them Rosalie flutters about, attempting to decided just what would be best to wear upon her first day of school.

Jasper himself has already picked out a fetching navy shirt, the same one he had last worn on Harry's birthday. He had not missed the way her eyes followed the flexing of his forearms, the sleeves rolled up to just above his elbows, exposing scar-riddled skin. He knows Harry has a thing for his forearms, knows it by the way her hands always run up and down them, how she takes the time to kiss each bite mark one by one, as if thankful that while he might have gotten bitten he'd at least walked away from all those fights.

The fact that the last time he wore this shirt, Harry hadn't so much as ripped it off him as sensually unbuttoned it in a carefully controlled manner, rubbing her body up against his as she did so, has no impact on his decision to wear it again. No, that excuse leans more towards the fact that the last time he'd seen this shirt, Harry had been wearing it herself, padding about the house on a 'lazy day' where they had just read books, played video games and enjoyed one another's company. While he no doubt looks good in the shirt, Harry wears it better than him. Far better.

"Have you read this! NASA is seriously considering revoking Pluto's status as a planet!" The outrage in Harry's words has Jasper sniggering into his book, flicking his gaze to look upon Harry from the corner of his eyes. There she is, showcasing her years of studying astronomy.

"Maybe you should right them a strongly worded letter," Jasper jokes, pressing his thumb into the sole of Harry of foot and to begins gentle massage.

She settled back a bit, lips in a pout as she stares down at the text that had provided the offending news.

"Maybe I will."

.

 **Twenty-Seven**

.

When they start school, Jasper and Harry abstain from going in Edward's car with him, even if Rosalie has to be the one driving. Because neither Edward or Alice are 'old enough' to legally drive yet.

Jasper finds the whole thing hilarious.

Harry is in the same boat, but she doesn't much mind, not with how they are getting to school. The bike they ride on is a certified antique, older than all other motorbikes in this world. Mainly because Harry had brought it with her when she's hopped dimensions. She'd admitted that, back when she saw Sirius for the last time she'd tried passing it off to him, but the man had refused, stating he'd feel much better trusting the device with Harry's welfare.

That is how Jasper and Hariel end up driving up to school on the 'Marauders' bike. In all truth, it's only thanks to Rosalie's miracle hands that the bike works at all, and she's still trying to fix the sidecar. Not that they really need it at the moment.

When they stopped at a traffic-light, Harry had casually pointed out the three mystery buttons all had different effects. One would have them up in the air flying, the second would turn both them and the bike invisible -not that they really needed to be such a thing, given Harry's gift- and the last one would have the bike spitting fire from the exhaust pipe. That one had amused Jasper the most.

Kicking out the stand, Jasper slides off of the bike after Harry, pulling off his own helmet before helping the redhead with hers. Not that she needs help, but his dear wife is always happy to play along with his gentlemen sensibilities. She finds it endearing.

"Ready to go?" Alice asks, bouncing over from where Rosalie has parked up Edward's Volvo.

The rest of the Cullens are standing close by, studiously ignoring the stares of all the student body, already well practiced with the ritual that is the first day of school.

The clouds are rumbling overhead, but Harry's hair is still bright and bold, a fantastic shade of red that stands stark against his finger as he plays about with a curly tress.

"Do we really have to do this?" Harry whispers under her breath, gold eyes flashing to look over the mass they will quickly be joining. Still, so far so good, none of them have scented a singer in the crowd.

"It's not that much of a trial," Jasper murmurs, hooking Harry's arm into his own until she's pulled flushed against his side.

"When we could be at home, laid in bed, just enjoying one another's company instead?"

"Darlin' you can make those appeals all you want. Just be ready to back them up when we get home."

.

With that, they both begin the new school year with a grin.

.

 **Twenty-Eigth**

.

"What are they wearing?" Jessica hisses under her breath, not quite able to tear her gaze away from the Cullens.

They're usually so stylish, and yet, they've returned from winter break wearing-

Jessica tilts her head to a side, looking at the jumpers once again.

It's not that they're god awful, she supposes. While clearly homemade, they're done to the exact high-standards that she has come to expect of the Cullens. In fact, it's almost cute, certainly shows how strong the bonds are between the family.

In fact, come to think of it, the letters stamped on the front are quite adorable.

"I heard that the English one, Harry, made them," someone whispers, Jessica cannot quite tell whom given that she's too busy staring at the English girl in surprise.

It's an accepted fact that no girl will ever be able to tear Emmett Cullen away from the beautiful Rosalie Hale, simply for the fact that no one can compete with her devastating appearance.

Another thing that no one questions is that while Rosalie may have the looks department cornered, it is Hariel Potter who is the most endearing of the Cullen Clan.

As the only English native, her accent is strong, despite having being living under Carlisle Cullen's -there is some form of relation between them- care for some years. It's obvious that Jasper Hale is head over heels for the scarred redhead; it's not even like the scar's a deformity, if anything it only enhances her appearance.

Hariel Potter is the most open of the Cullens with her affections, and it is only Jasper that could possibly threaten that title. Jessica has seen the redhead bounce up to the blond, wrapping him up in homemade scarves. She has seen the blond carry the redhead's textbooks, seen him press kisses to the edge of her knuckles and just hold her hand claps to his heart. She has seen Hariel Potter just snatch up Jasper's hand one day, mount that motorcycle they both seem to share, and disappear midway through the day.

She has heard Alice Cullen grumble over the fact they ran off to go and see the circus.

No, for all that Jessica finds Jasper Hale attractive, she cannot picture him without Hariel Potter stood by his side. He just seems to, brighten when she's around.

They're rather ridiculous, with his old southern gentlemanly manners and her random gestures of clear love.

She's seen the two dancing down the corridor at one point, the kind of dance you'd see in a ballroom, not a high-school corridor. She's seen Jasper pull out Hariel's chair and always ensure she is sat comfortably before he takes his own, he always stands up from his seat whenever she approaches him; it's sweet really.

And Jessica is horribly, insanely jealous.

.

 **Twenty-Nine**

.

Edward is the only one of them that ever dares to visit Carlisle at the hospital.

Jasper has a lot of admiration for his brother's control; maybe when he's been at this vegetarian thing as long as the younger vampire, then maybe he'll brave the hospital.

As it is, he's skiving off biology, given that they're testing blood today. Rosalie and Emmett have both gone off to do whatever it is they like to do alone together -Jasper is always careful to keep a cap on his power during that time, because really he doesn't need to know- and that leaves him home alone. Esme has taken both Harry and Alice off shopping, something Rosalie would have probably gone on herself, had Emmett not whisked her away to God knows where.

Sat in his shared room, curled up on the bed he and Harry don't really need but appreciate all the same, Jasper flicks through his scrapbook once again.

There's more faces now, cute little button noses, wisps of curly blond hair or wavy red, eyes on a sliding back scale from bright green to deep brown. He's reaching for the next blank page, but on flipping it over, he startles.

Because the page is not blank at all.

There's a picture there, a sketch in a style different from his own, and the image is moving.

In it is Jasper himself, laughing, smiling to the point that the little half dimple in his left cheek flashes in and out of existence. His hands are wrapped around two little legs, and there's a child sitting on his shoulders.

He has Jasper's blond hair, falling around his face in loose half-curls, the eyebrows are his, as are the jawline and lips. The boy is too young to tell just who's nose sits there, but the brilliant green eyes are easy enough to identify.

The boy is laughing too, messy half-curls a halo around his face, pudgy little fingers gripping at Jasper's hair.

Jasper has no idea how the drawing moves, though he knows Harry has spoken of being able to do so back when she was in Hogwarts. He doesn't particularly care to find out.

Instead he traces the little tagline at the bottom, ' _Jasper & James_', wrote in a hand that is not his.

.

He spends hours just watching that little drawing, to the point Harry returns burdened with bags of clothing.

She drops it all at the door, crawling up onto their bed with him until she's nestled in his lap, and together they both just stare at the perfect representation of a dream.

.

 **Thirty**

.

Another Christmas comes and goes, and Jasper finds himself stood on the very fringes of a crowd of humans.

Carlisle has been invited to a charity's undersides thrown by the hospital, thankful far away from the building itself. As such, they had all received invitations to attend too.

They've been in Forks for two years now, Jasper at last in his senior year and e sill has no idea what he is going to do once out of it. That is the one problem he has whenever he and Harry are in deep rate years, neither of them really want to move on with the next part of the charade without the other.

As such, he's been playing about with the idea of writing a book while he waits. Not just any book though, but a book on historical 'magics', cross referencing them from different cultures and pointing out human desire for the concept of magic.

No doubt it'll amuse Harry when she figures out what he's doing with his time.

"Everything okay?"

Harry slides up to stop beside him, dressed in a dress as green as her eyes had once been, a floor lengthy gown that exposes a great expanse of pale skin at the back. He can rest his hand on the uncovered skin, fingertips catching at the scar he knows comes from a dragon's tail. He still finds the whole thing ludicrous, half the stories behind Harry's scar are straight out of a fairytale, but then again, so is she. She was a witch before she became a vampire, and if that does not sum everything up, Jasper isn't sure what will.

"Ah," Harry murmurs, "my dress."

Jasper hums, stepping in front of her and allowing Harry to adjust the neckline without anyone able to see around him. As soon as she's done, Jasper takes her hand in his, kissing her knuckles, then the back of her palm, her wrist. He'd have continued upwards towards her face had a cough not interrupted them.

Jasper does not allow Harry's hand to drop though, instead reeling both it and her closer to his chest, pressing her fingers over the still cavity of his ribcage, where a heart should have been beating.

"You are suppose to socialise at these things, you know?" Emmett snarks, ever the hypocrite, a playful grin on his face.

Jasper does not to point out the fact Rosalie has yet to leave his arm throughout the whole thing, it's already loud and clear in the way the blonde sneers at an approaching male, one won is quick to perform an about turn.

"Please, why would we ever need to socialise with the humans?" Rosalie snaps, the disgust visible on her face.

.

A fortnight later, when a new human joins Forks' only school, Jasper cannot even find it in himself to be surprised.

.

.

.

 **Right, anot her word of warning I guess; I haven't read any Twilight books for sevenish years; I don't even own them. So please excuse any glaring errors.**

 **Confession #2; This is all wrote on my phone, excuse any grammar mistakes, please?**

 **Tsume**

 **xxx**


	4. 31 - 40

**Ischaemia**

.

 **Thirty-One**

.

Both Harry and Jasper get close to the human who will cause their family so many problems on atypical cloud day.

Bulking up her 'résumé' in order to get to college, Harry has been volunteering as much as she can in town, and the most recent consists of security for the police station out of school hours. It keeps Harry busy, and as likes being able to help people. Someone has lost a wallet? Easy enough to find given a general location where it was lost and super speed.

There had even been one memorable day when she'd sneakily put her gift to use, catching unaware speeders by keeping them out of sight until they were already in trouble. Not that Deputy Steve had known what she was up to.

The fact she's caught Edward speeding had almost resulted in a broken rib as Emmett laughed himself silly. Harry had proclaimed a super clean record was too suspicious, but the grin she'd been unable to tame had given her away.

Even Rosalie had gotten a little snicker out of it.

"And how long do you plan on sticking with the police station?" Jasper asks, gloved hand wrapped in in Harry's and a scarf drawn around his neck.

Explosive red curls are forcibly half concealed beneath a knitted hat of golden wool, the shape a near match to the bronze one atop Jasper's own skull. Harry's near-obsession with knitted gifts at Christmas is quite adorable, even if Jasper is rapidly running out of space to keep them all in. That she looks so comely in her gold scarf and thick green sweater, well he greatly appreciates the sight. Though Harry will look good in anything to him.

"No idea... Morning, Chief Swan!" Harry calls, waving her arm back and forth at the human in question.

Adjusting his hold on the baked goods Esme has shoved off on them, Jasper pauses in surprise at the clear Native America visiting the Chief. Highly likely is the fact the man knows exactly what they are, something made blatantly clear when he takes one look at them and goes an impressive shade of chalk white.

Charlie Swan on the other hand only knows Harry as the helpful set of extra hands down at the station. Hands that almost always come baring donuts. Even if Jasper is the one carrying the sugary confectionary right now.

"Good morning Harry and, Jasper is it?"

"Yes sir," Jasper stands to attention at the address, an ingrained habit that he has fallen back into since pretending to be human once again.

"I wanted to drop these off; I won't be able to make it to the station for the next week or so," Harry explains, gesturing to the box Jasper holds in his hands. Charlie Swan takes the good eagerly, offering Jasper a nod before he introduces his companion, a man who clearly has no wish to be on speaking terms with two vampires.

"Billy, these are two of Dr Cullen's kids, Hariel Potter and Jasper Hale."

"Just Harry for me," she chirps, offering her hand and then awkwardly lowering it several moments later when the man refuses to talk her hand.

Jasper bristles at the blatant disrespect to his mate and wife, even more so because this man is one of Sirius Balck's descendants. The man who had sacrificed so much of himself for her, and his however many great grandson just brushes her off like that?

"I have a relative, buried on La Push land, can I-"

"No," Billy Black snaps, dark eyes hard as he stares at the two of them.

Beside him, Charlie Swan flounders, evidentially not pleased in the slightest over Billy's behaviour but too shocked to know what to do about it.

"Your kind aren't allowed on our lands."

As the only one present with such sensitive senses, Jasper is the only one to hear Harry's teeth grinding viciously against one another, the only one to smell the venom pooling in her mouth. The only one to sense the tightly controlled fury that burns through her body.

"Understood," Harry says, though the absolute acid that single word is dripping in makes it exceptionally clear Billy should not ever meet her in a dark alley alone. Jasper has never heard Harry verbally threaten someone, and only twice has he heard her use that tone. It had not ended well for the vampires that tone had been directed at.

"I suppose I'll see you at the station in the future, Chief Swan," Harry brightens as she speaks to the bamboozled human, resting her head against Jasper's arm as she does so, "where the company is politer."

.

 **Thirty-Two**

.

"There's a new girl," Alice offers in lieu of a greeting, Jasper allowing Harry to slide onto the bench before he follows after her, placing their textbooks down on the tabletop.

While Jasper couldn't possibly care less about the latest addition to the emotional cocktail that is high-school, Harry is more than open to discussing the topic.

"Yeah, Chief Swan's daughter. I heard her heartbeat yesterday, though she was a bit busy, so I couldn't really say hello." More like Harry was busy attempting to get along with that flea-riddled mutt. Jasper sneers at the very thought, Edward raising an eyebrow across from him in surprise.

After all, Jasper is not really known for taking a personal dislike to someone.

Then again, not many people are stupid enough to hurt his Harry.

A pressure against his side and then Harry's head is resting on his shoulders one hand on his knee while the other lifts a slice of awful smelling pizza to her lips. It disappears from human view with her gift, and she flicks it easily into the bin with a little help from vampiric speed. To the humans, it makes it appear as if the Cullens are actually eating something. So much better than having to cough it all back up later.

"Do you see anything, Alice?"

"Nothing important," the short haired vampire muses, playfully taping at Edward's nose and grinning when he scrunched it in return.

The relationship between Edward and Alice is far more subtle than what Rosalie and Emmett have, not as sweet and steady as what Jasper shares with Harry.

Perhaps that is because they do not have their final component though, and it's like they're trying to run with only one leg, trying to drive with only three wheels. It's doable, but it sure as jell isn't stable.

"Well, here's hoping for a quiet year again," Rosalie grumbles, flickers her hair back over her shoulder.

.

 **T** **hirty-** **Three**

.

Bella remembers sitting in the trunk, Jacob beside her, as they looked at the two teens that had come to talk to her dad.

She remembers thinking how terribly attractive they both were, striking in appearance, even in all that knit. Even despite the fact they were quite clearly a couple, Bella couldn't help but look, not quite able to decide which of the two she found more appealing.

She still hasn't decided, and just minutes ago she'd found out there were four more of them.

Jessica called them the Cullens, even though the two blonds were actually 'Hales' and the redhead a 'Potter' and English to boot.

Watching as the six rose from their table and left the room, Bella scrapes her teeth across her bottom lip, watching the last two more intently.

The shortest of them being a pixie like girl, the shortest make with hair like shining copper. Actually, she's quite made up her mind that it's those two she finds the most attractive. True the redhead is striking, and true the blonde looked like she could be the face of every billboard and magazine, but there's just something about those last two.

It is only when Jessica elbows her none too gently that Bella snaps out of her daze, feeling a burning blush blister across her cheeks.

Damn it, she's already new here, she doesn't need to stand around and stare at the like some kind of star struck numpty. Really, she doesn't need to end up being the 'weird kid'.

Chewing on her lower lip once again, Bella hefty her bag back up her shoulder, shoving the remains of her lunch into the bin.

She could be normal, in this rinky-dink little town where everybody knows everybody and the sun seems like a weather phenomena spoken of only in legend.

This place is awful but Bella can and will adapt.

She hopes.

.

 **T** **hirty** **-Four**

.

His fists clench, venom pooling in his mouth and his teeth graze at the tough flesh of his lip. She smells delicious, delicious enough to throw everything away because to taste that blood would be so worth it.

Swallow back the venom, stop breathing in, he can't let Carlisle down, not after his spree feeding off humans all those years ago.

His adopted father has never told him off for it, but the man's relief upon Edward's return made his feelings more than clear. But the blood beside him is mouth-wateringly enchant-

"Miss Potter!"

Edward's snaps to attention at the cry from their teacher, spinning around to see Harry on the floor. Her chair lies sprawled to a side and her limbs are twitching something horrifically.

Her mind though, it's exposed enough from her gift for him to tell exactly what is happening.

She's faking a fit, giving him an out.

"I'll take her to my dad," Edward calls, already beside Harry and gathering her now limp form up in his arms.

The teacher agrees even as Edwards striding out of the classroom, even as everything inside him demands he go back and drain that girl dry.

' _We've got to leave in the car,_ ' Harry hisses within her mind before it disappears from his reach again, though she's doing and absolutely fantastic job of pretending to be unconscious otherwise. Head back and neck unsupportive, limbs weak and swinging as he walks. Her ribcage even expands and contracts within his grip, like shallow breaths.

.

They only make it a minute away from the town before Edward pulls over and he's out of the car.

He doesn't care where he's going, just that its away.

Away from Forks, away from the singer, away from the place he almost lost control and spat on everything he's ever worked for.

Harry streams along beside him, concern evident in her golden eyes and he knows his own are as black as charcoal.

But she understands, Harry has met a singer before, Harry drained her singer dry.

As if she is the mind reader and not him, the redhead tightens the space between them, hair whipping behind her head as she says, "you did a hell of a lot better than me."

Because yes, that girl is alive, Edward reminds himself. She may have smelt wonderful, better than anything he's ever been exposed to before, but the important thing here is that he got away in time.

"Thank you." For not blowing our cover. For giving me a way out.

It all goes unsaid, but Harry just nods, pulling out her phone as they run.

"I'll let them know what happened, where to find the car, and that I'll be keeping you company for a bit."

Edward nods, because while he wants to be alone, to wallow how he almost ruined their life her and ruined his own control, if he has to be stuck with anyone, he's glad it's Harry.

Harry who's eyes have burned red with singer's blood before.

There has to be a solution to this.

.

 **T** **hirty** **-Five**

.

When Edward and Harry return from Alaska, Jasper is on them in a moment.

Harry is in his arms and he's not so covertly checking her over, but all seems well. He takes a moment to clap Edward on the shoulder, face serious and he can feel just how trying this has been for his brother. How trying it still is.

They're going to have to call a family meeting to discuss this.

As if on cue, Alice comes bounding out of the house, shoving a scarf under Edward's nose and clamping a hand down on his shoulder when he tries to recoil back. While it smells of nothing special to Jasper, he can feel his brother's emotions whipping about everywhere.

"Get used to the scent, we'll build up a tolerance for you," Alice states, and really, there's nothing to do other than trust the one who can see the future.

Jasper watches the two almost mates go, retreating into the sanctuary of the Cullen house and leaving the two of them stood outside.

"I'm a little jealous of Edward's control," Harry whispers, fingernails running up and down his forearms, not quite scratching, more like drawing invisible lines upon his skin, "if she was my singer, we'd probably be settling into a new life now."

Jasper hums in agreement, because whole part of him wishes to deny Harry's claims, he cannot. It is the truth after all.

"If she had been a singer for anyone else, we'd be in California by now," Jasper agrees, tightening his grip upon Harry's waist as he does so.

"Except Carlisle, but we don't count him and his unbelievable control."

Harry snickers into her hand before she curls both her arms over his.

"So, I've missed you a lot this week," she casually begins and Jasper feels the smile breaking out across his face.

"And I'm sure this meeting will be frustrating indeed, Darlin'."

"If only there was some way to work it all off."

Head twisting back and offering a cheeky grin, Harry slips free of his hold and goes bounding up for their room, clearly intent on skipping the meeting altogether.

Jasper is right behind her.

.

 **T** **hirty** **-Six**

.

The world goes on.

Slowly but surely, Edward gets to know his singer, one Bella Swan.

Jasper watches all this from a respectable distance, quietly acknowledging the steadily changing feelings his brother exhibits. Harry has more chance to get involved, given she shares so many of Edward's classes, but she reminds back, just in range to help their brother should his control slip, but far enough away that she does not seem to be infringing.

Alice gravitates towards Bella as Edward gets to know her. Jasper can taste her hesitation, her worry about growing attached to a girl that Edward could so easily tear apart, just the slightest shift in control was all it'd take.

But he can also feel Alice's attraction, her anxious eagerness, and he knows she must have had a vision of this girl. He recalls what he has learnt of potential mates, and Jasper wonders.

A blatant laugh breaks him from his thoughts and Jasper's eyes flick over to stare at Emmett and Harry. The former has the latter in a piggyback, and they've spent the past half an hour invisible to human eyes, racing the cars that drive along the main road into town. There's some form of bet going on between the two, but Jasper isn't sure of the contents, nor does he really understand why the piggyback is necessary.

Rosalie stands beside him, watching her husband with a begrudgingly amused smile on her face. She's not happy about the growing closeness to the human, but she's holding her tongue. For now.

There's a sound like thunder and Jasper turns to look, squinting through the sheets of rain to see Emmett has slipped in the mud.

Unlike Rosalie and himself whom are sheltered beneath an umbrella, the two muddy fools are soaked through, clothes limp and hanging from their forms even as Harry croons in victory. He's still not quite sure what the bet was about, only that Harry has won and it means they can finally head back in from the rain.

Emmett gets up, pulling at the hem of his tee shirt as Harry grins up at him. Her hands come to rest before her lips, and a mere second later an infamous tune begins passing her lips as she impersonates a trumpet.

'Du-du-du-do, du-du-du-do'.

Beside him, Rosalie sighs, even as Emmett starts getting into the quasi strip tease, sliding his shirt off with all the ease of a male model and twirling the cloth in his hands before throwing it to Rosalie with a wink. The blonde doesn't catch it, instead tilting her head to a side and watching as the cloth falls to the earth with a wet splat.

There's a moment of silence until Harry attempts to carry on her tune and Emmett reaches for the waistband of his jeans.

At that point, Jasper decides he can take no more, instead snatching up his wife and leaping up into the trees with her. Melody cut off, the redhead growls playfully at him, teeth snapping together column she makes a mock bite for the junction of his neck.

"It's been a while since we played a game of tag," Harry breathes against his collarbone, and Jasper jolts when her tongue flicks once against his skin before she's up and out of his arms, disappearing into the winter rain.

Given the prize that usually sits at the end of the game, Jasper doesn't hesitate to follow after her.

.

 **T** **hirty** **-Seven**

.

Bella Swan is nervous. Even more nervous than her usual state, that of a teenaged girl in a new environment freshly questioning her sexual orientation, and if it's possible to like two people at once.

All coming to Forks seems to have done is made her a nervous wreck.

First the mess of the first day of school. Then she seemed to have morally offended the most attractive boy the school has to offer without even trying, to the point where he'd disappeared for several days on end. That the blond female hadn't stopped spitting fire with her eyes at the anxious girl had almost sent her into a quivering wreck. Then there's the fact that Edward Cullen had returned and now both he and his pixie like sister Alice seem to be appearing more and more in Bella's life.

Or maybe that's just her being hopeful.

But back to her current problem.

Bella Swan is nervous because a fiery redhead has just sat herself down at the desk she'd been occupying on her lonesome, waiting for her father to finish up his shift. A redhead with familiar golden eyes.

Hariel Potter, despite being from another country altogether, is just as devastatingly beautiful as the rest of the Cullens, if in a somewhat more exotic way. The vibrant 'bang' of her hair against the dreary Forks background, the shocking expanse of scar tissue across her temple that strikes like a burst of lightning; it only highlights her heart shaped face and winning smile.

Though she's not looking to Bella with a smile right now.

The brunette gulps nervously.

Does she know about the way Bella looks to her friends? How she looks at Edward and Alice? Is she head to warn her off?

"You're Charlie's daughter, Bella, right?" She asks, and the British accent is unfairly appealing.

Bella pushes the idea down though, aware that the girl before her is just catching her attention because she's so exotic. Everyone is enticed with the Cullens and Potter, there's no shame in Bella thinking these things. How often she considers the youngest Cullens however, is perhaps enough to bring a blush to her face.

"Ah- Yes. That's me." Bella gives a feeble little wave of her hand, the gesture limp and weak, though Hariel Potter's lips twist up in amusement.

"I hadn't got the chance to say hello yet. So, consider this my 'hello, welcome to Forks' greeting."

She grins, good nature lifting her cheeks until the corner of her eyes crinkle and Bella understands how easily Jasper Hale might have fallen for this girl. She wonders how Alice and Edward who both share the same appeal and yet have significantly different features, have remained unattached, for surely they have their own crowd of fans. But then she realises it's because the single Cullens are not interested and she deflates a little.

"Well, I have to run, Jasper's waiting-" here she pauses, looking over to the Police Station entrance where Jasper Hale is indeed waiting, Hariel's school bag along with his own in his arms, "-but it was nice to officially talk to you."

Like a whirlwind, Hariel Potter glides swiftly to her blond's side, offering him a kiss on the cheek and trying to snatch her bag from his arms, only to be foiled by a quick movement from the male.

Bella watches them leave with an ache in her chest and a desperate long for a relationship just like that, to be so at ease with another.

.

Then she almost gets run over by a truck the next day, and ends up with more questions about the nature of the Cullens than about potential relationships.

.

 **T** **hirty** **-Eight**

.

"She's important!" Alice insists, slotting the words neatly between Rosalie's lengthy rant on why they should go and break Bella Swan's neck right now.

Harry sits upon Jasper's lap, angled to a side so that she can rest her head upon her husband's shoulder, watching the two go at it in the living room.

Just behind them, standing at the entrance to the room, Emmett and Esme observe the whole scene in silence.

Really, they already have their course of action, it's only Rosalie who fights it. Edward and Alice, as the two closest to Bella, have the right to decide what happens next. And they wish to let things lie at the moment.

Already the male is working towards building Bella's doubt over what happened with the truck, Emmett helpfully smoothing out the hand-shaped dint in the framework when no one was looking.

Thankfully the girl had hit her head during Edward's valiant rescue, which means Bella would be second guessing herself for a while.

"Why does one little human matter to you Alice," Rosalie hisses, and Harry can hear the venom, the pure loathing in her voice.

While the redhead does not quite agree with her husband's 'twin', she can understand where the blonde is coming from. Rosalie just wants to protect the family, Emmett comes first for her, followed closely by the whole lot of them.

It is perhaps why Jasper gets along with her so well; the former major after all always ensures Harry's safety and then the coven's. Harry won't condone the murder of an innocent girl just to keep secrets.

Oh if only she had a wand, and if only she had some practice at memory charms.

As it is, she does not dare to attempt erasing Bella's memories without one of those two conditions.

The girl isn't terrible; uncomfortably naive in the world and clearly questioning her sexual preferences in the face of Edward and Alice, but she's a teenager. Harry doesn't expect much more from the near adults; all she has to do is think back on her own time as an adolescent and she realises it could be so much worse.

"She has potential!" Alice snarls back, and Harry has never seen the tiny vampire like this, but it is a clear reminder to everyone in the room that Alice is just as much an apex predator as they are.

"She's-" Alice chokes slightly at the end, her hands balling into fists and eyes taking on that distant sheen as she sees something no one else can.

When Alice had first revealed her powers to Harry, the redhead had gone out of her way to avoid her, words of prophecy still ringing in her ear. It didn't matter about the distance, didn't matter that she is now worlds away and that the Cullens do not know her past.

It terrified her.

Thankfully, she has since learnt to cope, learnt that it's okay to lean on Jasper for support and it's okay to not take on the world alone.

Because she's not alone, before she is certain of anything else in this world, Harry knows with complete surety that she and Jasper are a team.

It's almost all she's ever wanted, certainly all she ever needs.

"Bella won't be a problem," Alice confirms, smile lighting up her face and all anger gone.

Then she skips out of the room, tearing the wind from Rosalie's sails as she goes.

.

 **T** **hirty** **-Nine**

.

It's a sunny day, and the vast majority of the Cullens have gone camping.

All but Jasper and his English redhead.

The duo are not sat at their usual table however, something which completely blindsided Bella into thinking they too are absent when she sits at the table Alice and Edward had shared with her a few days ago.

The brunette startles when she hears a husky laugh, eyes flashing up to note the very real presences at her table.

Hariel and Jasper are sat close together, shoulders brushing with their hands linked and fingers intertwined. Both hold a flask in their other hand, taking the occasional sip of what Bella assumes to be soup.

"Why hello there," Hariel teases, clearly taking amusement over the fact Bella had been focusing so much on the deserted Cullen table that she'd missed their presence.

"Ah, hi," Bella murmurs, realising that among these vain and vapid teens, Hariel's scar stands out that much more.

Jasper Hale offers her a slight nod in greeting, pulling up the hand he holds to press a kiss to Hariel's pale fingers.

For all that they appear distant and above the majority of the teens in school, they're incredibly sweet with one another, their love obvious.

For Bella, the child of two divorced parents, it's a glaring sign and she feels her heart clench in her chest.

"So, I saw you sitting with Alice and Edward the other day," the Englishwoman muses, tone casual and conversational and her eyes lock on Bella's form.

Suddenly the brunette feels so very small.

"And I want to know your intentions towards them."

At that, Bella does splutter, feeling good heat bloom in her cheek and burn the skin beneath her eyes.

It's not that she's been called out on her obvious attraction -though it does contribute to her fluster-, it's the fact Hariel Potter asks after her intentions towards them both. As in, not as a singular unit.

She's embarrassed, painfully so, and waiting for the redhead to scare her off.

Only Jasper Hale gives a low chuckle and the sound is like leather and velvet all at once, sexy and silken. The noise even draws Hariel's attention from poor Bella, her lips lifting with obvious interest before they both turn burning gold gazes on Bella.

"I think you should start calling me Harry. I have a feeling we'll be seeing a lot of each other, Bella Swan."

And then they're gone, Jasper tucking their flasks into his bag as they walk out he cafeteria hand in hand.

.

It takes Bella seven hours to work out that Hariel 'Harry' Potter has just given her a tentative approval.

Towards Alice or Edward -she doesn't dare think that maybe she'd been given a nod for both- Bella isn't sure.

Her heart still beats like thunder though.

.

 **Forty**

.

When they returns home from school on the next sunny day, Jasper happily accepts the little basket Esme offers him and leads Harry to the bike.

They drive for an hour or so, until Jasper finds what he's looking for. They're on the outskirts of a little town, standing before a building that has been long deserted in favour of a newer model that had opened up in the centre of town.

"This is-"

"A library?" Jasper finishes, pulling out the keys he'd been given before opening the door. It's a relatively small building, reflecting the size of the town at the time it was created. The late 30s architecture is familiar, and after looking around the main hall to ensure that there are no trespasser -not that Jasper is worried about their inability to handle junkie squatters- the Southern vampire leads his wife in, setting the picnic basket down on one of the low tables.

"So, why have you brought me to a library?" Harry asks, head twisting back and forth to look around, taking in every curve, line and leftover book.

Jasper takes a moment to picture it, to picture the dusty Windows flooded with sunlight, to picture the walls a duck egg blue as opposed to the current pea green. And in his mind, he can see it.

"I didn't. I brought you to our library."

At that Harry stares, forgetting the human façade as she stares far longer than any human could without blinking.

"Ours?" She repeats dumbly, red brows puckering together even as her eyes swivel to take everything in once again.

"Carlisle and Esme have a multitude of houses, Rosalie and Emmett have two houses, even Alice and Edward have one."

"You bought it?"

"We met in a library. It seems only right that the first house we ever buy for ourselves is to be one converted from a library."

As they speak, Harry'd face which had been frozen in shock begins to melt into obvious excitement.

She snatched Jasper's hand up, dragging him to the stairs, racing up and inspecting every room. There's four of them upstairs, one to become a master bedroom, one for a guest room, one for a shared study and another for a bathroom.

Harry darts out onto the small balcony, breathing in and staring out of the window that leads into the small forest. The library is tucked away at the back of the town and nature has slowly but surely began depressing it from the town. The location, the building, it's all perfect, and Esme will make the interior magnificent to match.

Wrapping his arms around Harry's waist, Jasper drops his head on hers and smiles.

"Happy anniversary, Darlin'."

.

.

.

 **Someday I will fix the mistakes in this fic. Someday**.

 **Tsume**

 **xxx**


End file.
